


no more wandering

by santanico



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:18:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Kate forget about cookie dough and navigate being partners for a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no more wandering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [biggrstaffbunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biggrstaffbunch/gifts).



> this is for [steverogersorbust](http://steverogersorbust.tumblr.com/) aka [biggrstaffbunch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/biggrstaffbunch/pseuds/biggrstaffbunch) and it is literally the latest birthday fic EVER but it is DONE. it's done. and that's all there is to it. i hope you like it bb!

All in all, Kate is okay with this arrangement.

Bucky Barnes is the Winter Soldier, and the Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes.

It’s not that confusing. Or that weird. No matter how often Clint gives her the stink eye when she brings him up, or answers her cell phone with a bright, “Hey, Bucky.”

Barton has jealousy problems. To that, Kate returns with her personal favorite – _I don’t give a fuck_.

But it doesn’t change anything, not really. Even though she’s doing “top secret missions” now, outside of the Young Avengers (who were never really a cohesive team to begin with, now that she thinks about) and being part of Hawkeye Squared (which is something Natasha called them, and that Kate is too nervous to ask Bucky about – since he calls them that, too, and maybe he got it from her, but things are _weird_ between the Black Widow and the Winter Soldier, and Kate is definitely not stupid enough to get mixed up in that shit), Kate doesn’t really feel like she’s in danger.

Maybe because she’s still home, mostly.

Even though her home is changing, and is sometimes involving an ex-assassin. Whatever. She’s been around more dangerous people. Has everyone just forgotten when she first _started_ being a superhero? That was some scary shit.

So she can handle Bucky Barnes.

…Usually.

Except when he calls her “Katie,” in a yell, throwing a spare steel-tipped arrow her way in a fight.

He’s faster than her. And stronger. And he has a goddamn metal arm.

But goddammit, Kate doesn’t _need_ him to protect her like this.

Not that she’s complaining. Usually.

Bucky is fast, and he’s lethal. That’s one thing that Bucky has that no one Kate has worked with has ever had. He’s unforgiving. He’s not a hero. He’s quick and to the point and while he’s certainly a kind person, a protective person, he has no doubts and he rarely pauses.

Kate isn’t like that. Kate isn’t sure what she’s like, most of the time, because most of the time she’s dealing with the human rats outside of Clint’s apartment, or doing light housework and other pretty mild stuff. Kate’s a unique kind of superhero, after all.

Not that she isn’t strong or confident. She doesn’t hesitate either. She just doesn’t do a lot of killing.

Maybe that’s why Hill partnered them up to begin with. A human and an ageless soldier with a metal arm. A killer and a…not killer.

Could be worse, Kate reasons. Mostly with herself.

It starts out like that. Missions, hotel rooms, gas stations, laughter. She’s pretty sure that Bucky likes her – legitimately feels affection for her – and that makes it a lot easier because she definitely likes him.

Just likes him. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sometimes she watches him. Not in a weird way; it’s just something she does. Especially with brooding men, because brooding men tend to be confusing, and they tend not to express themselves very well, and they tend to need to be taken apart. She’s been through this with Clint, and although Bucky is very much _not_ Clint, they’re similar enough in certain ways that Kate can see why they rub each other the wrong way sometimes.

Kate clears her throat in the doorway of the hotel room. Bucky turns around and opens his mouth and then sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he says, and Kate raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall next to the door. “Guess I should…”

“Put a shirt on,” Kate finishes, but not before her eyes trail down his chest.

“Didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” he says, managing to keep his eyes trained anywhere but on Kate as he grabs a clean t-shirt and pulls it over his head. “Did you get what you needed from the store?”

Kate is used to seeing him in uniform – or his ‘mission gear’ as he likes to call it – but she likes the casual for a change. Jeans suit him. 

“No,” she says, sighing as she ventures further into the room and sits on her bed. “They didn’t have what I needed. Probably because I showed up so late. They might stock by tomorrow though, I should check back in the morning…”

“You’re weird, Katie.”

Kate glances back over her shoulder at Bucky, who is smiling at her. She raises an eyebrow again, frowning.

“What?” he says.

“I’m the weird one. You…have a metal arm, and I’m the weird one.”

“Hey,” Bucky says, his smile dissipating as he furrows his eyebrows together. “No need to take it out on the arm. It does its best.”

Kate laughs and lies back against the sheets. “Sure it does,” she says, adjusting the pillow under her head and rolling onto her side. “Just turn off your light when you go to bed, okay?”

There’s a moment of silence, then a sigh, and finally Bucky says, “Yeah. G’night.”

“Good night, Bucky.”

-

“Kate, we’re taking you to a hospital.”

“Fuck you, Barnes! I don’t need to be hospitalized.” She doesn’t mean to sound so harsh as she tugs her arm out of his grip, but goddamn if it doesn’t hurt like hell. Her head is throbbing and Bucky is frowning at her with the kind of deep concern that should only be allowed from legal guardians.

“Hey,” he says, softer this time. “Come on, girly. Get in my car and let me drive you to the hospital. I am certain that you need stitches.” His metal fingers are surprisingly warm against her temple and she tries not to lean into it.

Kate doesn’t argue any further with him though, letting Bucky wind his arm around her waist and hoist her to her feet.

“We won though, didn’t we?” Kate murmurs, stumbling forward. Bucky keeps her grounded and she can hear his laughter, which sounds distant against the throbbing in her head. Maybe she really does need to go to the hospital.

“Yeah, Katie. We won.”

-

Six hours and fifteen stitches later, a doctor is looking her over with an almost annoyed frown as she insists on leaving.

“Look,” Kate says, glancing over at Bucky, who keeps his arms crossed and says nothing. “If you say I’m fine, I’m fine. I can always come back if I don’t feel well. I just really – no one can afford to stay a night, just to be safe. And believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

She sees Bucky purse his lips, but she ignores it. If he’s worried about her, he can say it out loud. About time someone else said it, after all.

“Thank you for all your help,” Bucky says to the doctor as they finally leave the hospital. Kate does feel better, although there’s still some residual pain, which she had already promised not to complain about since she hadn’t accepted the painkillers she was offered a prescription of.

Bucky drives them forty minutes back to the hotel they had paid for for the night, and he even lets them take the elevator up to the third floor.

They’re in the room and Kate is lying down on the bed when Bucky calls Maria. “Yeah, she’s fine.” Kate only hears snippets of Bucky’s side of the conversation. It’s too much trouble to pay attention, even though she _knows_ they’re talking about her. “She’ll be okay we just…yeah. A week will do. I’ll – yeah, okay. Yes. I hear you. Thank you…Director Hill.”

Kate is dozing when the bed sinks just slightly.

She opens her eyes and looks at Bucky. “Can I help you?”

“We’re taking a break. For your recovery. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she says, and it’s the honest truth. “But okay, mostly. Everything’s a little sore.”

“You’re tough,” Bucky says quietly. “You wouldn’t even let them give you anesthetic.”

“Yeah, well. Like I said. Seen and been through worse.”

Kate doesn’t really process the shift of Bucky’s body until it’s too late, and he’s lifted himself onto her bed. He’s positioned, just barely on top of her, arms on either side of her body. He smiles at her for a split second and she smiles back without thinking about it before he leans down and kisses her.

And. Well.

She was kind of expecting that, but mostly not, so she doesn’t really know what to do.

His lips are raw and she wants to kiss him again.

“You should take off your shoes before you fall asleep this time,” Bucky says, his face too close but not close enough.

Kate nods.

“G’night, Kate Bishop.”

-

Maybe it’s a little weird that Bucky is this good at being a caretaker.

Kate admires it, sure. And it’s not quite overwhelming yet, but she also isn’t used to other people taking care of her. She’s had her fair share of injuries but she isn’t reckless in the same way Clint is, and she knows better than to get herself seriously injured; and honest, she isn’t even that hurt, but Bucky tells her they’re taking a full week off. He doesn’t listen to her interjections, and he also doesn’t mention kissing her the other night either.

Kate isn’t sure how to bring it up. Because it’s one of those things, one of those unspoken _things_ that people don’t talk about, and she knows there’s probably some sort of etiquette but she doesn’t care, not really. She wants to know if he’s questioning his feelings, or if he’s serious, or even if he has feelings at all.

But Bucky is quiet, for the most part. What he does say pertains to Kate, specifically, and her health. She continues to watch him, usually while she’s eating cereal in bed and he’s organizing stashed weapons that they had smuggled into the room.

So much for that cookie dough she was going to make – and then eat. Kate doesn’t think much about going back to the grocery store. They have enough stocked in the mini-fridge and scattered throughout the room to last them at least two weeks.

Things remain quiet. She calls Clint a few times, mainly because she’s feeling insecure and it’s good to hear his voice and know that he’s okay. Bored, maybe, but safe. It’s good to hear him lecture her in that almost-sharp tone he gets when he’s worried, and it’s a comfort to know that he cares enough to check on her whereabouts and questions almost everything. It’s annoying too, but mostly – it’s good. Kate knows that’s the kind of support she needs in her life.

-

Bucky shows up late on the eighth night after Kate gets stitches.

The door opens and Kate stirs awake, pushing herself up on her bed and standing, peeking towards the door where the light from the hall is beginning to stream in.

“Hey,” she says, keeping her voice quiet because it’s two in the morning. “What the hell, you didn’t answer my – oh.”

She’s been through this kind of scenario before – not with Bucky, but still, it never ceases to be shocking.

“What did you do to yourself?” she says, stepping over to Bucky’s side and wrapping an arm around his waist. He leans on her, just barely, and together they stumble into the hotel room. Kate manages to reach over to flick the light switch on and the door swings shut behind them. They end up, by some miracle, sitting on Bucky’s bed, Kate still holding him up.

Bucky lets out a long sigh and then groans and Kate grips his elbow. “C’mon,” she says, “what happened to you? You’re a wreck.” She pauses to lift up his chin, examining his face. His right eye is heavily bruised but it’s already fading to a sickly yellow, and he’s got a healing split lip. “Looks like Mr. Ageless really does heal fast. Did you get into a street fight or something? It looks like you just stepped out of a thorough beating.”

“Kate,” Bucky says, sharp and sudden. He shifts on the bed and leans, his hands finding her waist and resting there. “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Oh,” she says, “you know that’s bullshit.” Still, she can’t find it in herself to argue with him, and she considers for a moment the other night, and the kiss, and Bucky and his quickly healing bruises and the way his body is hot and close to her. Kate leans into it, feels his hands tighten on her waist, and she thinks - _oh shit_ \- because this might be the worst idea of all.

The kiss happens, again, much like the first one except not as gentle. He’s careful with her sure, about as careful as Kate could expect. His lips are rough, sort of raw and uncomfortable against hers, and she feels a sigh escape into her mouth. Bucky’s breath is warm, and he parts his lips against hers slowly before sliding his tongue along her lips.

Kate shifts back and pulls in a tight breath, her hand sliding to his arm and gripping his bicep.

“You – ” she whispers, and it comes out sort of hoarse. She blinks at him in the dark and Bucky smiles back at her. She can taste the rusty cadence of blood in her mouth from his split lip, and she hates herself for wanting to lean in and grab more.

He makes the first move again and Kate surges into it, pressing against him in a hard kiss. Their strength is equal, at least in that moment, and their bodies slot together.

Kate isn’t sure if she can remember, more than fuzzily, a moment where she was this close to someone.

Fuck, she needs to get laid.

She climbs into his lap without really thinking about it, hitching her legs around his hips and squeezing tight. Bucky moves with her, lifting her into his arms and holding her.

“Kate,” he murmurs.

“Don’t you dare,” she interrupts, leaning forward again and pressing against his chest as she kisses him. She feels Bucky smile and they fall back on the bed. “How’s your face?” she says, sitting up to straddle his waist. When Bucky looks back at her, his eyes are dazed and he’s still smiling. She wants to look away.

“My face is good,” he says and Kate’s breath hitches as he rolls on top of her. She squeezes her eyes shut and gasps as his hands travel down her sides and it’s when she feels his head at her stomach, pressing light kisses into the skin above her navel, that Kate realizes this is happening.

A part of her is thinking _finally_ and another part of her wants to get out of here and forget these missions ever even happened in the first place. _Finally_ wins in the end, as Bucky’s fingers hook in her belt loops and he starts to tug her jeans down her thighs. Kate lifts her hips and squirms and she feels his soft laughter as he tugs her pant legs down further. She kicks her feet and lands back against the bed as he finally gets her jeans off and onto the floor. His head is between her legs before she can say something snarky and she can’t complain anymore.

Bucky’s mouth – his lips, in particular – are warm against Kate’s panties. It’s revolutionary, in fact, and Kate doesn’t think, can’t think, as his fingers hook into the waistband of her underwear and tug them down her thighs as well. The thought _so much for the nice lace_ crosses her mind at one point, but it all sort of fades into wet heat as Bucky closes his lips around her clit and sucks.

Kate gasps and rocks her hips up into Bucky’s mouth, spine arching up on the bed as she tangles her fingers into his hair. She feels him hum against her skin and adjust, his arms wrapping around her thighs. Bucky’s face shifts and she feels his lips move against her skin. His tongue presses hard against her clit and Kate’s pretty sure her breath is going to be knocked from her body at this rate. She breathes in through her nose, pressing her lips together as her legs quiver and Bucky squeezes with steady hands.

The clarity is sudden and it drives a full-body shudder through Kate in a sharp moment. Bucky hums against her cunt as she rolls her head back and tries to suppress a grin.

That’s what Bucky is; he’s steady. Steadfast in all the chaos that _is_ being a superhero, or whatever the hell Kate is. It’s like finding the secrets to the universe, realizing that the guy between her legs, the guy she’s been pining for who’s probably a bad idea, is more stable than her. More stable than most anyone that Kate knows, actually.

She squeezes her fingers in his hair and Bucky draws back into her, his tongue teasing her clit in hard strokes. He shifts, adjusting to his position carefully enough that Kate doesn’t feel disturbed, and slides two fingers inside her, his warm tongue traveling back up to focus on her clit.

Kate closes her eyes, and wills her nerves to settle.

-

Bucky’s fingers are tangled in her hair when she wakes up. Kate tries not to smile as she rolls onto her side, draping her arm along his chest. She looks at him, looks at his skin, and thinks it’s kind of funny that his skin is so smooth. It was like he was created to be _cold_ \- but that thought is suddenly sad, and Kate instead presses a kiss to his skin, where scars outline his shoulder and settle under the shadows cast by the sun through the open segments of the window.

There’s something beautiful about his drawn back gaze, the highlight of sun on his cheekbones; the way it almost glitters on the metal of his arm. Kate feels an overwhelming sense of protectiveness, watching his chest rise and fall with each slow moving breath.

Yes – he’s beautiful, there’s no doubting of that.

“Good morning,” Bucky says, and Kate hums and rests her chin on his shoulder, running her hand down his neck and to his chest. He barely shifts, his hand, which had tangled in her hair, instead trailing down to her shoulder and then her waist. There’s comfort in the touch, made to remind Kate that he means her no harm. It’s affection against her skin, and Kate melts into it.

She thinks she could be happy. Here, with him.

But the week is almost up, and his face is still yellow with already faded bruises. The cuts around his eye look like scars now, years old, forgotten in wind and rain and snowstorms.

She rolls over and grabs her shirt from the end of the bed, crawling across the sheets to find her underwear. She can’t remember the last time she slept naked next to another person, and there should be vulnerability attached with it, maybe even some kind of shame, but for once her skin fits her.

Kate tugs her underwear up her thighs and pulls the t-shirt over her head.

“Do you want breakfast?” she says, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder and looking to Bucky. He’s still lying in bed, watching her with lazy, half-closed eyes. His gaze is dark, not quite sultry but – there’s something there that Kate can’t name. She isn’t sure if she wants to.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” is all he says, and Kate watches his tongue, and remembers the things that it’s capable of. She smiles then and slips into the bathroom, where she studies herself in the foggy mirror while taking deep breaths.

There are rules, she reminds herself. Not just SHIELD rules, but rules that matter, rules about not sleeping with the person you’re on a mission with because that always ends badly. Rules about not making Clint worry. Rules about just generally not being an idiot and being madly attracted to the older ex-assassin/spy/whatever that is Bucky Barnes.

Oh, and he’s also Captain America’s best friend. …He was Captain America for a while there.

Kate’s first instinct is to call Clint. But she can’t call Clint, because he would be flabbergasted and maybe a little angry and might yell at her or otherwise scold her and Kate doesn’t want to hear from Clint, the master of being absolutely _terrible_ at relationships. That isn’t worth shit to her, and she just needs – someone who understands.

There really isn’t anyone.

Kate pauses and runs the water from the faucet, brushing her teeth and then washing her face carefully with a bar of soap. She rubs moisturizer into her dry skin and she’s tender with the spots on her face that are still healing. Her stitches have mostly dissolved and her skin looks a lot better, but some cuts and bruises still remain. Kate supposes that they match now.

When she steps out of the bathroom, Bucky is pulling a shirt over his head. For the first time, she really takes notes of the scars on his body. Despite the accelerated healing process, Bucky has thin lines across his shoulder and back, some reaching as far up as his throat. He turns around and smiles at her and Kate suddenly feels vulnerable in underwear and a loose fitting t-shirt.

Kate decides not to hesitate and crawls back onto the bed. Bucky reaches for her almost instantly, and she moves closer, into the width of his arm. He holds her waist, keeping her steady as she slides closer, pausing only to draw her fingers over his face.

Bucky smiles.

“What are we gonna do?” Kate says in a quiet voice. She’s scared, suddenly, her heart starting to pound. It’s unusual for her to be afraid, even in the midst of violence and calamity, but something about this _person_ , this guy she hardly knows…terrifies her.

“Why don’t we just rest?” Bucky asks, and he leans in a little closer, touches his forehead to hers. Kate wants to melt into it, wants to be right up against him, but she stops. She rests her hands on his shoulders, grips the cool metal beneath her fingers and sighs. “Of course, nothing’s ever that easy, is it?” Bucky murmurs, and there’s an understanding in his voice that washes over Kate and she laughs despite herself.

“You’re not too bad, you know,” she says after a moment, kissing him. Bucky takes a breath before he kisses her back and she feels him smile against her mouth. It’s liberating to hold onto that kiss, to wrap her arms tight around his shoulders and let him pull her onto his lap. 

“Thanks, Katie-Kate,” Bucky whispers before kissing her neck.

“Oh, for the love of God,” she says, shaking her head and resting her forehead on his shoulder. “Please don’t call me that.”

She feels him grin against her skin and his hold on her waist tightens and he pulls her down on top of her. They sprawl across the bed and Kate can’t help laughing as she rolls over onto her side. 

“God, ow,” she says through her laughs, touching a hand to her forehead. Bucky turns over and smiles at her eyes, his eyes the kind of gentle that Kate just isn’t used to, and she smiles back as he ghosts his metal fingers along her forehead.

“You gonna be okay?” he says, and she nods, resisting the urge to lean into his touch.

“Are you?” she asks, a fair question all things considered.

Bucky chuckles and gives a half-shrug. “God knows,” he says, and it feels – honest. Kate’s grateful for that, and she leans up slightly to kiss him again.

“Do you think we’ll figure it out?” she asks, a question that she doesn’t really want an answer to. She’s afraid of the answer, of the _true_ answer, because things can only stay nice for so long and they just – tend not to last.

“We keep doing what we’re doing,” Bucky says, like it’s that simple. And Kate contemplates for a minute, closing her eyes and stretching her arms over her head as Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom.

Maybe he’s right.


End file.
